The Secrets of America

Rookie Mistakes Are Never Good

(Who needs to update stories when you can just make more stories you'll never finish?)

He knew he should've cleaned that would better.

But he was late, and didn't have much time to spare.

Quickly changing into his usual outfit, America rushed into the conference room. "THE HERO HAS ARIVED!"

"Bloody hell America, where have you been? We started the meeting an hour ago!" England shouted.

America laughed his trademark laugh, then blew him off with a "Yeah, that's great Iggy."

England practically had steam coming from his ears at this point, while America nonchalantly sat in his chair and propped his feet on the table. "So... Who's presenting? Let's start this thing already."

Germany, who had been mentally strangling America for putting his feet on the table, said through clenched teeth, "Yours."

"Aww, but I just sat down! I don't wanna get up!" America whined, while England muttered under his breath about butchered languages.

Nonetheless, America stood up and went over to the podium. "Alright dudes, I think that if we build a giant robot that can make food we can solve world hunger!" England stood up to ask just how the hell they were going to build a food making robot, when he noticed something on America's sleeve. It almost looked like... blood.

England's parental instincts kicked in. "America... are you bleeding?"

Mentally America was kicking himself. That bandage was wrapped so badly he knew it was going to bleed later. But he didn't expect it to start this early.

"Pfft, of COUSRE not! Heroes don't bleed!" America was praying that his Hollywood acting would through, even though he knew it wouldn't. You just can't beat a parent's instinct.

"Then what's that growing red patch on your arm?"

"What, that? Ketchup. Spilled it while eating. No biggie."

England didn't buy it. He could tell. "America, let me see your arm."

America ran.

He sprinted into the hallway, turned the corner, and...

...ran into Sealand. What? How the hell did a kid manage to trip him?!

"I've got you now! Know you gotta make me a... Hey, you're not Jerk-England!"

America looked back. He saw England marching toward him.

"What," he hissed, "the bloody hell were you thinking?!"

He roughly pulled up America, sending Sealand to the ground with a "Hey!".

England unbuttoned America's shirt, ripped it off, and looked at the wound.

(By now, France and other countries had found the pair, and they we all thinking the same perverted thought.)

England's face had softened, and infected the wound with careful eyes. "America..." He said softly, "who... Who did this?"

America though over his options. Everyone would know he was husk something by now, and that really wouldn't be good for his relations if every country was wary of him. Sighing, he said, "Follow me."

America led England and other countries who decided to tag along to a n abandoned hallway. He went into one of the bathroom's stalls, and pulled out a duffel bag. Unzipping it, America revealed the contents: guns. Lots of 'em.

America also produced a backpack. Inside were clothes, splattered with blood, a dossier, and, uh... "Proof of kill."

"Latest kill was this morning. That's why I was late." America said.

Everyone stared.

"What?" America said defensively. "I only kill the bad guys!"

England passed out.

(Whew! That was fun to write. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be. Right now I only have two more planned.

By the way, this is not USUK. Just to clear that up.)